Somewhere I belong
by AlexisVega
Summary: Set somewhere at the end of DmC. Although he considered that things might turn for the good, never could this demon hunter imagine that regaining the lost memories of his childhood could actually be this disturbing. And somehow, his brother's betrayal rendered things even bitter.


ME : Here is my first fan fic. Its a one-shot and set somewhere at the end of DmC after Dante defeats Vergil, and then, somehow, has learned the depths of his past. I don't know what I am trying to achieve with this, but the thought crossed my mind and I felt like penning it down.

So here it is.

Reviews and criticism, all the same, are highly appreciated. Thank you!

Hope you enjoy!

_I wanna heal_

_I wanna feel_

_What I thought was never real_

_I wanna let go off this pain I felt so long_

_I wanna heal._

_I wanna feel._

_Like I'm close to something real._

_I wanna find something I wanted all along._

_Somewhere I belong_

Quietly, he sat down on one of the park benches after scanning to find the most secluded part of the area. With high hopes of not being spotted, heaving a long, weary sigh, he threw his head back and shut his eyes with a wrinkle set from both, the shimmering silver light that the moon cast on his already wan features, and the indubitable fatigue that never failed to follow after one heck of a long day.

He wished to be alone for sometime.

Well, not that this desire would have been presented with a potential problem, considering the fact how his beloved ones had been ruthlessly erased from his life as if they were mere water drops on a piece of clothing.

He scoffed gruffly, awarding the causality of this absurd analogy to the predominant thought of laundry that had been reigning supreme in his mind – he badly needed to go through the grimy layers of apparel he owned, no matter how measly they were.

But with the ever growing herd of demons jumping on him every now and then, and between the tough decision of embracing the enchanting world of dreams and the strict, resolute resolve against it to keep himself breathing – something he had come to treasure a lot now – clothes hardly even made to his to-do list, let alone steal the first place.

He shifted himself to seek shade under the tree leaves from the moonlight.

Undoubtedly, sleep was peaceful, assuring ... and relaxing.

With the very thoughts running full circle in his mind, he dozed off, however, with no definite decisions; his cold, poised frame slouching comfortably on the wooden bench as though there was no care in the world …

A shrill scream, saturated with pure agony had him throw his eyes open and sit up straight with an abrupt jerk.

Tardiness now a thing of the past, he swept his urgent ice-blue eyes through the dark surroundings – the thin branches of the trees around swayed with the same tranquility as that of the one blessed with a rich song of a Nightingale; the little blond girl was still giggling to the sound of the croaking toads while her parents sat there on the bench, engrossed in chatting, each oblivious to the screech.

He threw his head in his hands, massaging his forehead with his fingers.

Another dream. Sighing, he ran a helpless hand through his silver hair.

Or a memory, to be precise. A tormenting sight that would flash through his head and set out the vicious circle of coursing hopelessness and dire anxiety through him.

What would have he not given to erase it? To omit this one day from his life that put a stark change to everything he knew? To delete that one instant when his family was in the clutches of that savage beast?

What would he have not given to have actually done something that would have made a difference?

"Dante!"

His head slightly inclined to the direction of the thin voice behind him, registering acknowledgement.

"What are you doing here?" inquired his female companion when he had opted to remain still and silent.

"Missing me already?" he pondered instead, plastering his crooked grin as he turned to face Kat.

"We have to leave, remember?" the girl voiced, her features shadowed by her hood.

Her question had him heave another long sigh, as though doing so might free him off the fact. With that, he kicked his heels to the ground and shot to his feet. Then presented Kat a curt nod of approval.

And the two friends sauntered off.

But none noticed the little girl who turned her head to their direction; none noticed her ice-blue gaze waver to glint a scorching, bright red; and none noticed her lips move as she rumbled in a breezy baritone, "We found him ..."


End file.
